Chapter Eight
E mily didn’t know why her mouth always ran away with her whenever this guy was around.
She wasn’t one to make jokes like that. Double entendres and flirtatious remarks were so not her usual.
The polar opposite in fact. She often got teased by her fellow officers about being all business all the time, a demeanor she had intentionally adopted when she’d first started on the job, as a defense mechanism.
She’d eventually discovered it wasn’t necessary, not on a department run by the likes of Shane Highwater, but by then the facade was hard to drop.
She had, eventually, when off duty with her coworkers, but never, ever in uniform.
Until she’d encountered Tucker Culhane.
“Lobo!” Jeremy yelped, and darted over to pet the big dog, whose tail wagged gently as he sat obediently still.
“Hello, Jeremy,” Emily said with a smile.
Jeremy stopped and looked up at her. “It’s okay if I pet him, isn’t it? ’Cuz he knows me?”
“It’s fine,” she assured him.
“He should meet Maverick! I’ll go get him. He’s in the barn with Pie. They’re buddies.”
The boy headed for the barn at a run. Emily looked, finally, at Tucker, who was smiling as he watched Jeremy run.
Smiling with love; that connection was palpable.
She had the feeling this guy had stepped up in a big way when the child’s mother had been killed.
Maybe it was knowing that that had her all tangled up when she was around him.
But she refused to let the odd feeling derail her. “Pie?” she asked.
Tucker turned his head back to look at her. His eyes really were that blue. “He’s a pony. Just Jeremy’s size, for now. He learned to ride on him when they first got here.”
“So, was he the inspiration for Thorpe’s Therapy Horses ?”
“In a way, yes. He and Jeremy.”
She nodded. “It’s a really, really good thing they’re doing.”
“It is. To just see these kids, who arrive all weighed down and buried in sadness, get on a horse and come alive again, even if it’s only for a while, is worth all the effort.”
She thought that a lovely way to put it. Who knew the former rodeo cowboy had such depths? Then again, maybe being nearly crushed to death taught you something.
“So,” he said, sounding a little awkward, “did you just stop by to see what’s going on, or is something wrong?”
“I just stopped by,” she said, snapping herself out of the crazy thoughts parading through her mind, “to thank Jeremy’s dad for calling my boss.”
He blinked. “Jackson called your boss? The police chief?”
“Yes. About the incident at the school.”
“With the bullies?” He smiled then. “Good for Jackson.” His smile widened. “You’re on his good list now. And believe me, that’s a helpful place to be.”
“He’s helped you out, then?” She wasn’t sure why she asked, except she wanted to keep the conversation going. Why she wanted that was something she didn’t want to delve into at the moment.
“He has before, and he is again, now that I’m out of a job.”
“But…isn’t he why you’re out of a job?”
He drew back slightly, and his gaze narrowed.
She’d thought she was just stating a known fact, but there was obviously more to this.
He stared at her, and she suddenly had the feeling she was seeing the tough, determined competitor who had blown up the rodeo scene not all that long ago.
His eyes had gone steely, and his jaw was set.
“He had no choice. He was losing his son. I’m not sure what would have happened to Jeremy if Jackson hadn’t read his little clues and realized he needed to get out and away from where it all happened. He did it for Jeremy, and it was the right thing to do.”
By the time he finished, adamant on those last five words, she was feeling an inner warmth unlike anything she’d experienced before. It must have shown on her face because his jaw tightened even more.
“You think it was a mistake? You think—”
“I think what you just said was a beautiful example of a true friendship.”
“And that it is.”
The deep, resonant voice came from behind her.
Because Lobo had alerted and she’d given him the “relax” signal, she wasn’t totally surprised, and was able to turn around fairly calmly.
And in some uninvolved part of her mind she registered that Jackson Thorpe looked just as good in person as he did on screen.
“Don’t mind Tuck,” he went on. “He’s a little defensive on my behalf, since a lot of people aren’t too happy with me for exactly the reason you said. And aren’t in the least hesitant to say so.”
She hadn’t thought of it quite like that, but she did now. “And in a town where everybody’s got a megaphone, it must get pretty loud.”
“Exactly that.”
He grinned suddenly, and she found herself grinning back.
She’d never been one to be overly impressed with stardom, but he was hard not to like.
She glanced at Tucker, who seemed to be studying the toes of his boots.
Jeremy, meanwhile, was on his knees in the dirt, one hand stroking Lobo, the other wrapped around the big golden retriever by his side.
The two dogs were nosing each other curiously, but she didn’t see any sign of animus or anything to be on guard about.
She looked back at the famous face. “That you made that decision speaks volumes. More quietly without the megaphones, but much more powerfully.”
Tucker’s head came up, and oddly, she knew he was looking at her.
“Thank you, Officer Stratton,” Jackson said.
“She said I could call her Officer Emily, like I can call the chief Chief Shane,” Jeremy said, looking up at his father.
“Well, that’s quite an honor,” Jackson said, reaching down to tousle his son’s hair, a loving gesture Emily didn’t miss.
“Yup,” Jeremy said.
“Cops here,” Tucker said, “are very different from L.A.”
She looked at him then. “Because Chief Highwater is different. He’s invested in Last Stand—his family was at the battle.
This isn’t just a job for him, it’s helping his town.
It’s a loyalty to everyone who lives here.
It’s…preserving history, including his family’s history.
And everybody here in Last Stand knows it. ”
“Speaking of loyalty,” Tucker said, looking a little stunned at her unintended speech.
“He’s earned it,” she said. She flicked a glance at Jackson, then back to Tucker. “Sort of like you did, I gather.”
He looked surprised, but Jackson chuckled and answered her. “That he did. If it hadn’t been for Tucker, getting me that job on the horse crew, I don’t know where I’d be.”
“You wouldna’ saved Sorry, and we’d all be sorry,” Jeremy piped up.
That one stumped her. All three males were grinning now. “Tuck, I’ll let you explain that one. I need to go put in an appearance with the new group arriving.”
“Let me thank you first, Mr. Thorpe,” Emily said quickly. “For calling my boss.” She smiled. “As you might have guessed, his opinion means a lot to me, and I appreciate it.”
“As I appreciate what you did for my son. You’re welcome here anytime, Officer Stratton.”
“Emily, please.”
“All right. Only if you call me Jackson.” He smiled back at her. “And by the way, you might like to know that Chief Highwater mentioned you were one of Last Stand’s finest officers. And I’m guessing he doesn’t throw that kind of praise around lightly.”
She felt her cheeks heat, but underneath that was a welling up of pride, that she’d achieved what she’d worked so hard for. “No. No, he doesn’t. Thank you. For telling me that. Jackson.”
He didn’t tease her or even react to her choppy response, but then she realized he was probably used to people being tongue-tied in front of him.
And as he walked over toward the group of new arrivals, his son and the happy golden dog at his side, she saw him reach out and take the boy’s hand.
Jeremy made no complaint, merely stepped closer.
Now that’s a good relationship.
“Your town has worked a small miracle.”
She turned back to look at Tucker. He was smiling again, his eyes fastened on his best friend and his son.
“It’s been known to happen,” she said. When he looked at her again, after she got past the jolt those almost too-blue eyes gave her, she asked, “So, you going to translate that last sentence of Jeremy’s for me?”
His brow furrowed, but only for an instant. “Oh. Yeah. You ever see that now famous video, of Jackson pulling a horse out of a mud flat?”
“I did,” she said, choosing not to reveal she had only seen it last night, during her nosedive into Tucker’s history.
“That’s him,” Tucker said, pointing at a big, reddish-brown horse that was now being led toward the small group of children by a volunteer. “And his name’s Sorry. For sorrel, his color.”
She blinked. “He was Jackson’s horse?”
“Only when they were going to get rid of him because he spooked too easily. Just like they threatened to sell off Buck—” he pointed at a big buckskin in the next corral “—after Jackson left, because he wouldn’t cooperate in the same way with anyone else.”
She remembered the big buckskin, and found it interesting that they’d bonded so strongly that the horse wouldn’t perform for another rider. “So he bought them both and brought them here?”
“He did.” Tucker gave her a sideways look. “In case you had any last doubts about the kind of man he is.”
“I don’t.” She returned his look. “About any of you.”
For an instant something flashed in those eyes, something hot and bright. But it vanished and his tone was almost mocking when he said, “Unexpected, for a couple of Hollywood folks, huh?”
She waited just long enough to make it clear she wasn’t just snapping off a quick answer. “Somehow I don’t think that’s who y’all are anymore.”
“No,” he said. “No, I don’t think we are. Not sure I ever was.”
“Welcome to Last Stand, Tucker Culhane.”
A few minutes later, as she loaded the patient Lobo back into the unit, she couldn’t help thinking the smile that had gotten her was something special.